Deep breath...
As a child my mother would take me on the bus to town; when we stood at the bus stood, invariably some buses servicing different routes would also stop. One of my fondest memories from childhood was the smell of the buses exhaust fumes - if we weren't getting on the bus, I would stand close to the back of the bus and inhale deeply as it pulled away.

New buses don't smell the same to me.

I know, I know - I was a strange child; I used to love to eat matchstick heads too (but not the crappy brown safety matches - it was red or nothing).
(mcnelson, Thu 25 Jun 2009, 14:00, Reply)